Purple Summer
by nymphett
Summary: › They thought the marriage was what He wanted. They did not think that the marriage of Ruth and Malachai would lead them to destruction. A remake of the story.
1. Chapter 1

_And a child shall lead them._

**Author's note: After moving into a house that is directly beside a cornfield, my imagination wandered. It didn't help that I have been listening to the Spring Awakening soundtrack on a nearly endless loop - that's where I got most of the themes from this story, i.e the inner and outer tumult of sexuality and teen uprising kinda stuff. You can blame it further on my watching of the Children Of The Corn remake on Syfy, which featured a much more humanized (and attractive) Malachai. You can consider this a prequel and a re-imaging, I suppose. If my inspiration abides, this fic is actually going to end up being decent length. Rating for violence and, you guessed it, sexuality in later chapters.**

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**T**he sun was hanging heavily in the sky, streams of sunlight pouring from it as thick and runny as egg yolk. It was the kind of day that heated your skin, even after night had fallen. The breeze had picked up as the day went on and made the humility less severe, tickling the cornstalks and making them brush together, the sound something like a whisper.

Ruth carried her basket high on her hip, heavy with the weight of the ripe corn. The cobs were all a bright, stark yellow; the kernels all sat in polite little rows, neatly smiling up at her from the pile.

Little Mary followed behind Ruth, carrying her own little basket. She was humming a children's song to herself, and Ruth managed to catch the words every once and a while. _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._ Mary stopped singing and smiled up at her, missing teeth showing. It had been Ruth's duty to take care of her since Mary was only a toddler, when Mary's mother was taken to He Who Walks Behind The Rows. "Ruth, are you nervous at all?" Mary asked her in a whisper, her cornflower blue eyes going wide and excited. Ruth smiled, weakly. She leaned closer to Mary, her small ear like a shell curled up beside her neatly braided blond hair. "Yes, a little." Ruth admitted, though her voice betrayed her, and trembled a little. Her fingers had begun to fidget and twitch around the handle of the basket.

The matching ceremony would occur in less than an hour, as Isaac had planned it. At night fall, he would bring them all together and announce what boys were to be married to the chosen girls. Ruth had already been named as one of the girls weeks prior. This meant that she would be married by the end of the week. She had trouble wrapping her mind around it, that it was already her time to be a bride. This was why the two of them were retrieving corn from the field - Isaac had requested that they bring some to him for the corn dolls that were to be pat of the ceremony, as always. She had picked each stalk slowly, allowing her some spare time.

"If I were you, I think, I'd be terribly excited." Mary whispered, her voice becoming faintly giggly at the idea of her own imminent marriage. Mary was still too young to understand that this also meant that Ruth was ever closer to her nineteenth birthday, when she would be sent to be in His favor. Mary also wasn't worried yet about such things as being given an unsuitable match, or how soon you were expected to be with child. Ruth perhaps dreaded the intercourse most of all, and what if she was matched with a boy she disliked? How horrible and personal an act it would be have to perform with someone who didn't care for. Mary caught her expression and grinned at her. "I'm certain your husband will be a good one. You _are _one of the prettiest girls, even Isaac must know that."

Ruth chuckled and shook her head. She wasn't one of the prettiest by any means and even had she been, such things weren't discussed unless you wanted to be thought vain. Such a trait was a cardinal sin, so even the girls who you knew to be the most vainglorious didn't mention it at all. The one that came to mind to Ruth was Donna, who devoted countless hours to the brushing of her silky blond hair and who shot Ruth venomous looks at every opportunity.

"I suppose we should get back," Ruth muttered, nibbling her lower lip nervously. Their baskets were filled high to the brims with corn. And though Ruth would have liked to stay longer, to prolong her freedom, the sun was growing lower in the sky and she did not want to be anywhere near the field after dark. The never thought gave Ruth the shivers. He Who Walks Behind The Rows comes after dark, and he'll take you if you are found in his fields. Mary peered up at her, a finger twisting around the tip of her braid.

"It will be alright..." Mary said. Ruth wasn't sure if it was a question or if she was comforting her, so she just nodded. Mary's small hand wrapped itself around Ruth's and they carried their baskets of corn with as they walked toward the church, where Isaac would no doubt be waiting. In just a short while, the names would be announced. Ruth would be told her fate.

Behind them, the corn whispered.

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**I**saac sat behind the podium, rays of the fading sunlight coming in from the holes in the ceiling. Ruth and Mary sat their baskets down by the door and, seeing that there was already a row of prepared corn-husk dolls sitting by Isaac, abandoned them and joined the group in the pews. It appeared that they were the last to arrive. Isaac, his expression severe and hands interlaced in front of him, nodded towards Ruth solemnly. "We have been waiting, Ruth. You are very nearly late to the ceremony."

Everyone turned to stare at her. Ruth flushed. Donna sat in the pew to her left and peered her smirking face over at her. Beside her, Mary made a low squeak of a noise. Ruth cleared her throat, stammering to Isaac. "I-I'm very sorry. I lost track of time..."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Save your excuses. We have more pressing matters to address tonight. Last night, I asked the Lord about tonight's ceremony. As you know, tonight is when the four chosen girls will make the passage and be given a match. It is not something to be taken lightly. And so I asked unto the Lord who amongst our numbers would make a fruitful match; who would bear many children, and would be the most beneficial matches for us all. And to that, The Lord answered." He took a deep breath, pausing for effect. Many of the boys and girls whooped and cheered, and he held up a hand to silence them. He called out, "Come, and rise Abigail, Ruth and Sarah."

Ruth and Joanna, who had been sitting next to each other, exchanged a nervous look as they stood. Joanna smiled weakly, a mere shade of a smile, and reached out and laced her index and middle finger with Ruth's. It was a gesture that the young children did, it was a way of saying _good luck. _Ruth returned the same small smile and the two of them walked toward the front of the church and stood beside Isaac at his podium. The other girls, Abigail and Sarah, were already standing alert. They were younger, and seemed to be positively beaming as they waited to hear their match. Ruth tried to clear her thoughts and focus on taking slow, even breaths and trying not to tremble so. Joanna busied herself with gnawing on the ends of her lank brown hair.

"And so they are-" Isaac cleared his throat again, and looked across the pews to the enraptured faces of the crowd. _"Joanna and Abel."_ He announced. Beside her, Ruth heard Joanna make a little choking sound at the back of her throat. Abel was a big, hulking boy who spoke very little. What's worse, he was seventeen. Which meant that he only had two short years left before his nineteenth birthday. Abel rose and came to stand beside Joanna.

_"Abigail and Marcus."_ Marcus came and stood with Abigail, who seemed pleased enough with the match. She kept sneaking sly glances at the boy from the corners of her eyes. Standing beside each other, they looked more like brother and sister than husband and wife. They both had splotchy, weedy faces and very scrawny frames. Ruth's stomach clenched in knots and she focused herself by biting down hard on her bottom lip, until she tasted the coppery tinge of blood. Mary watched her expression from the pew, and began to worry over the older girl's rapidly paling complexion as she realized that it was her name to be called next.

_"Ruth and Malachai."_

A few cheers came from the crowd. Malachai was Isaac's respected right hand man, and many had begun to wonder why Isaac had hesitated so long to have him matched to a bride. As the other boys did, he came and stood beside her. He was over a head taller than her, and from what Ruth could see from the corner of her eye, his expression was quite devoid of emotion or reaction to what was happening.

_"Sarah and Job."_

Ruth couldn't recall ever having felt more unsure about anything in her life. She did not look to the reactions of Sarah and Job, she just stared ahead at the neat rows of pews and thought deeply. She tried to remember having any interaction with Malachai at all, but could pull up no memory. Prior in her life, she had felt nothing but a slight respect and fear of him. What had Isaac thought when he made this match? Especially if Malachai was someone who he held close to him. She did not understand what she had done to garner any respect from Isaac. She had just been late to one of his services, for goodness' sake.

Isaac interrupted her thoughts, handing her a small corn husk doll made to look like her. Someone had painted it a pale blue dress and given it shades similar to that of her brown hair and blue eyes. "Now, we will leave the matches to toss their husks into the field as we have always done. It is how we let He Who Walks Behind The Rows known of their coupling."

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**A**nd so, in neat little rows, the four girls and four boys all walked to the cornfield. Their situation made all the more stranger as they were left to their own devices. Ruth had trouble keeping in with Malachai's pace, as his legs were much longer than her own. She glanced at his husk doll and saw that they had painted on his red hair and a little black vest. The group was silent, except for Abigail and Marcus, who trailed behind and made whispers of conversation. As they stood in front of the cornfield, Ruth's skin prickled at being so close to it at night.

Joanna and Abel threw theirs in first, both going in crooked directions. They were followed by Abigail and Marcus, whose got caught on the wind and went a bit sideways. Sarah, who was terribly short, had trouble making it into the field at all and had to make several attempts. Job snickered at her throw and she glared daggers at him. Ruth and Malachai went last. They both had adequate aim, and made it the longest distance.

Marcus whistled. "Pretty far." He muttered, but it sounded much louder in the still silence. Ruth could faintly recall hearing one of the other girls discussing some myth about the success of the throw being up to the longevity of the upcoming marriage. Ruth brushed the thought away and took in deep breaths of the cold night air.

"That's it then, isn't it?" Joanna whispered, sounding more meek and unhappy than ever. No one else knew quite what she was talking about, so they all just nodded and silently departed from the other couples. It was tradition for the boys to walk their girls home, no matter how unhappy they were at the upcoming union. Malachi's pace had slowed down steadily to a comfortable walk. Ruth tried to distract herself from the deafening silence, and stared ahead at the low, bright moon.

He stopped walking suddenly, and Ruth almost stumbled into him before realizing that they were at her doorstep. She wished she could just stay and sleep outside without being deemed insane, there was something much more comforting about the dewy glow of the moon than the cold, empty house she had gotten accustomed to sleeping in. Ruth could not rightly remember the old days, the days of the Adults, but what few memories she did have saved, she stored away in a secret little box in her mind and hid away from herself.

"Are you happy with this?" Ruth asked Malachai suddenly, not aware of the fact that she had actually blurted it out until she saw the confused expression on his face. The first emotion she had seen on his face since their coupling was announced. She clamped her teeth down hard on her mouth, lest another sentence escape it without her permission.

He did something like that of a shrug in lieu of an answer. "I suppose." He muttered, his eyes low as he kicked up dirt with the heel of his boot. Ruth nodded complacently. They would be married soon, she suspected, since Malachai was so well thought of. Isaac would push the marriage forward, so they could have as many children as possible. That's why they called it the passage, because within a short time you would go through so many tests and changes - you would become a wife, a lover, a mother. She shook such thoughts from her head, because she knew if she thought too far into it she would never get to sleep.

"Goodnight." She said.

He raised his eyes for a moment, only a moment, and caught them in her own. They were blue, she saw. But a different blue than her own. Paler. He nodded thoughtfully. "Goodnight." He repeated, turning and slowly beginning the walk back to his own home. Leaving her wondering what kind of man her husband would turn out to be. _  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Thanks for the positive reviews, you guys.**

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**S**he had expected the morning of her wedding to feel different, or that she would feel different somehow. But she began to realize as the day went on that it was like any other. They spent the early hours of the day attending Isaac's sermons as they always did, and afterwards Ruth visited Joanna. Abel and Joanna had been wed the day before, and naturally she now lived at Abel's house. Their wedding had been a simple affair, not like her and Malachai's would be - as Isaac's right hand man, he would be greeted into marriage with fanfare. Ruth dreaded it.

Ruth found Joanna sitting on her porch, sewing one of Abel's shirts and looking distracted. "Oh!" She gasped when she saw Ruth approaching and heard her greeting. "Good morning." She couldn't help but notice that Joanna looked pale, and as Ruth sat down beside her, and that she appeared to have pricked herself many times on her needle, and little pinpricks of blood stained the pads of her fingers.

"How is marriage treating you?" Ruth asked, nervously wringing her hands as she sat down beside her. She didn't know if it was rude to ask, but that's what these post-wedding visits were for, to come a calling. It was something sort of tradition for the young girls to do - ask advice from the married girls, how to conceive fast; how to get grass stains from your husband's shirts.

Joanna bristled for a moment, before offering a tight, complacent smile. "Well, I suppose."

She did not believe her for a moment. She leaned closer to Joanna, gently placing her hand over Joanna's own. "You can be truthful to be, Joanna. You know I've always considered you a good friend. I would never repeat anything you confide in me, and I would think the same of you."

Joanna looked at her for a moment, her eyes glassy and odd. She squeezed Ruth's hand and, quietly, began to cry. "I'm just unsure of our partnership. Abel speaks little to me, and I feel like a ghost here. I know I should not question He Who Walks Behind The Rows, but I can't help but think..." Joanna stopped herself, wiping away a salty tear with the palm of her hand. "Just forget my utterances. I'm just being all muddy-headed because this is all happened so fast. I'm a wife now."

Ruth nodded, agreeing with her cries only for the sake of Joanna's own comfort. Joanna looked immediately thankful and fresh color livened up her cheeks. Joanna took back up her needle and began again at Abel's torn shirt. She swallowed back her hiccups and managed to offer Ruth a watery smile. "Thank you for listening. You're a good friend, Ruth. I'm certain you'll have better luck than me."

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**L**ittle Mary had gathered wild daisies and was twisting them into a wreath, that she would later place in Ruth's hair. Across from her Ruth sat on her bed, working on combing out the tangles from her freshly washed hair. She was wearing a simple blue dress, though she had intended to wear her old white one. When Ruth had put it on, she found that it had grown far too small (or rather, she had grown too big) and it now reached high above her knees, mid-night. She had chuckled inwardly to herself at the idea of her turning up to the ceremonies in it, the outrage.

When she had taken the dress off, changing to the blue, she had thought about how much she'd grown. Ruth wondered if growing up had something to do with that feeling she sometimes got - the strange stirring the tickled the inside of her stomach. Almost as if there was a sparrow trapped inside her, fluttering.

Ruth looked at the little white dress sitting on her bed, and it reminded her of her mother for some reason. She could only remember few, very vivid details about the woman - like how her laugh was almost musical, like the twinkling of bells. Ruth can remember being young enough to comfortably sit in her lap, how she smelled like crisp apples. Ruth had trouble remembering the good days of the adults without thinking of That Night, and all of the awful memories that came with it. The memory of looking out her window, only a small child, and seeing her neighbor's house being swallowed by flames. At the same time she heard loud, pained shrieks. _Where are my parents? _She thought, frantically. She ran to her front door and found that it was already open, torn out by the hinges. She stood on her front porch and looked at the chaos around her, the smell of smoke stinging her nostrils. The older kids were walking down the street, holding knives, Molotov cocktails and what other weapons they had stolen from their sheds or kitchen. The sound of hissing flame and broken glass followed them.

She did not like to think of That Night. She did not like to think about the adults.

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"**Y**ou look lovely." Mary said, faintly touching Ruth's hair as they both looked at her reflection. Mary had put plaits in her hair and placed the wreath on her head, like a heavenly crown. Ruth thanked her and clasped Mary's hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment. Mary had plaited her own hair as well, and it sat on her shoulders in two perfect, twin blonde braids. "Do you feel ready for marriage?" Mary asked, her eyes bright and excited as she leaned close to Ruth.

Looking at her, Ruth considered lying. This would be Mary's future, too - an arranged marriage by Isaac. And there was nothing that Ruth could do to change that. But today was Ruth's wedding day. Today, Ruth was tirelessly trying to figure out her own emotions - trying to understand the complexities of her own burgeoning heart. She would not lie today. Certainly not to Little Mary, who she had watched grow up and may as well have been her birth sister.

"No, I'm not."

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**C**hildren were lined up in neat rows in the church pews, all of them were dressed neatly. Not many of them had neat clothes, and most of them were wearing the same outfits from the day before, when they had attended Joanna and Abel's wedding. The younger children looked tired, sick of all of the wedding fuss that had occurred these past few days. Isaac stood behind the podium, his dark eyes full of understated excitement. Corn husk dolls made by the younger children sat in the corners of the room, crinkling against the floor as a breeze carried into room. Ruth and Malachai stood in the center, and were made to clasp hands.

Isaac stared at them, finishing reading the Bible verse. _"Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go, I will go and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me."  
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**T**he ceremony was over with and, simple as that, they were married. Everyone threw flower petals and Isaac pulled Malachai aside to give him his words of blessing. Ruth went to Mary and kissed her wet cheek. They would no longer share a household for the first time since Mary was very small. Ruth didn't know if she could take such a loss. Mary, as if reading the doubts on her face, hugged her tightly and said her good wishes. "Good luck."

It would soon be her wedding night, and she would need it. Ruth thanked Mary and sent her off to play with the rest of the children. She could not tell if she still felt like one of them, the children. She watched them toss around the corn dolls with a certain detachment. She was a wife now, she thought. Malachai came up behind her and watched them play, too, for a moment. Nahum was in the group, laughing and running. Ruth knew that Nahum was Malachai's duty, just as Mary had been hers.

"Are you alright?" He asked her. He had been closer to her than she thought, and when he spoke his breath tickled her neck and sent shivers into the deep of her. She nodded, unsurely. He held out his hand for her to take, and she looked at it expectantly for a moment. She knew where they were supposed to be going. To his home, to eat dinner and engage in conversation. And then, to the dreaded marriage bed where they would consummate the marriage and validate it in the eyes of Him.

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